


world peace

by waybackup



Category: Euphoria (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F, Mentions of Death, Pining, Unrequited Love, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waybackup/pseuds/waybackup
Summary: Jules spends all night using Rue as her perfect makeup canvas. She needs to take it off sometime.





	world peace

**Author's Note:**

> this is rly short i just love these two ): hope u enjoy!

The fundamentals of minimalism as decor dictates that the fatuous evidence of any human life must be rejected in order to keep plain decadence in tact. This is not how Rue's house functioned. They'd hoard memories in great numbers, piling them up on table tops, a certain pride adhering to the concept of their ever permanent residence in the house that she and her sister had grown up in. The living space Jules Vaughn now occupied in their little circle of suburban hell followed the former out of no mistake. Her father seemed preoccupied with the aesthetics of new modernity. This was a departure from the domesticity of most interiors in their town. It stuck out like a sore thumb to Rue, especially at night when fetching herself water. All she could focus on were the harsh lines of unrounded cabinets and the stark white of their monochromatic colour scheme greying by whim of the moonlight.

Jules' room felt as if it was collapsing in on itself. Her bed was framed by the angled walls accommodating the slant of their roof that Rue had banged her head on earlier in the week, much to her companion's amusement, leaving a dent only noticeable by touch. The attic room was messier than the rest of the house due to Jules' own growing sentimentalities towards the clothes she had procured in order to extenuate the best parts of herself, and hide those that kept her up at night. There was little evidence of her childhood. Stuffed animals that sat on her dresser were purchased post mortem of the scared little girl she used to be. 

The blonde scrunched her nose as the other remained in a state of contemplation, tracing the outline of the girl's bedroom in her mind, attempting to grasp something beyond the anecdotes shared in intimacy. The stretch for observation hurt her head. 

"Rue?"

"Uh - sure."

"Oh my god you weren't even listening!" 

Jules waved an eyeshadow pallet out of frustration, shades of pink blurring together as Rue's eyes failed to focus on anything but her best friend's expression which saw little change between experimenting on Rue with glitter placement and speaking, other than her mouth agape in faux surprise. Rue always spaced out. It didn't help that Jules wanted to run the soft bristles of her makeup brush across her face for an extended amount of time.

"I'm sorry - just tired. Can we go to bed?" 

Her closest companion's lively attitude before long changed to one of complete service. It was the main upside to Rue's fluctuating mental state. Awful days were great with Jules. She did all that she could to deal with her, paying little mind to how irritable she was or how it affected her own arrangements. It was the reason Rue adored her to such an extent.

"Alright."

Jules spoke with such understanding. Syrupy sweet, as always. Even in moving off of the bed she placed a gentle hand on Rue's thigh to steady herself. During her departure Rue had begun the long and arduous process of locating a particular hole in the wall again. The delicate clack of brushes was before long supplanted with the crinkle of - something. Rue looked ahead of her to investigate only to see Jules a breath away from her face, something she had neglected to notice in time analysing the cracking paint where a nail once hung in her room. Before there was time to register the dark haired girl felt something cold brace her skin. She made a garbled clamor as she winced, causing Jules to cover her face due to the small snorts now escaping from her upturned mouth. Rue spotted the offender - a small packet of generic brand makeup wipes resting next to Jules' knee. With a look of disillusionment, she spoke.

"You told me you didn't have any makeup wipes the other night."

"Oh yeah - I just didn't want you to force me to take mine off. I was sleepy."

"You are such a lazy bitch, you know that?"

Jules feigned a hair flip as she popped her tongue off of the roof of her mouth, eyes to the ceiling in a moment of genuine flattery.

"That's me! Now - hold still." 

Reluctantly Rue embraced the cold as she viewed Jules in calm focus, tenderly hauling the soggy filaments over her skin. Rue looked for anything that could indicate something beyond the simple act, similar to the manner in which Jules' eyes moved from her lips to her brow erratically, a mistake in her upheld demeanour that didn't often slip through. She could feel her breath ghost over the wet patches of her face like the cold winds up east. It was a welcomed chill as she felt her face burn. There was no talk, only movement, the rub against her waterline making her clamp her eyes shut as the blended colours were transferred the white sheet. Rue viewed the girl from one eye as she moved to the other, watching intently.

"All done."

Rue sat fresh faced across from Jules as she inspected the sheet. She smiled the same way as she did finding new clothes, or candles, when they were out shopping. The colours had melded into the kind of weird artistry that only someone like Jules could appreciate. That smile didn't fade, not even when she placed the canvas onto her bedside table, it only possibly appeared to scatter when her consideration was taken back to her closest companion. Leaning in, Rue could only expect that this was one of her dreams come true, that in the open pores of her skin there was something Jules could be proud enough to wed her for. But of course, these fantasies were always shattered sooner or later.

She felt manicured nails scrape over her cheek as the blonde kicked back and moved her discoveries between her thumb and forefinger. Rue leaned in close to observe but had the conclusion taken from her by a whisper.

"Eyelash. Make a wish?" 

Jules presented a forefinger to Rue's drying lips, eyes wide and blue, mouth threatening a smile. Rue cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed, an indication of her disbelief in systems such as wishes or luck. Of course Jules always knew that she could be coaxed with a single head nod followed by a pout, a deadly combination that lit her skin ablaze and made her heart drop. With a sigh, Rue forced out a breath enough to send the lash flying somewhere beyond her sight. 

Rue had wished for Jules to kiss her in that moment - but it never came. Even in their nightly embrace she hoped that the sketchy legitimacies of eyelash wishes were enough to grant her just one frivolous thing in return for never coming to her father's rescue. 

"What did you wish for?" 

...

"World peace." 


End file.
